


Jerso the Frog Prince & Iron Zampano

by Griselda_Gimpel



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Anime/Manga Fusion, Canon Compliant, Canon Continuation, Crack, Crack Treated Seriously, Cuddling & Snuggling, Kissing, M/M, Mild S&M, Post-Canon, Silly, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-16
Updated: 2018-09-16
Packaged: 2019-07-13 02:36:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16008497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Griselda_Gimpel/pseuds/Griselda_Gimpel
Summary: Jerso and Zampano want to get their original bodies back, and they're willing to try almost anything.





	Jerso the Frog Prince & Iron Zampano

                As the sun rose over Central Amestris, its light streamed in through the window and woke Jerso and Zampano, who were sharing a bed. It wasn’t a very large bed. The concierge hadn’t said anything three days prior, when they’d checked in requesting a single bed, but there had been the raising of an eyebrow, and the bed they had gotten did not comfortably fit two grown men.

                Of course, there were other reasons it was uncomfortable. Jerso and Zampano had not, during their travels, shared a bed before. After the first night, Zampano had complained bitterly that Jerso snored, a charge which Jerso had strenuously denied. (His wife used to make the same accusation; Jerso had maintained his innocence with her, as well.) The second night, Jerso discovered that Zampano was a shameless blanket thief. Zampano did not deny the robbery but protested that he got cold easily.

                The third night was an improvement. Zampano seemed to have gotten used to Jerso’s snoring, and Jerso found that if he stayed super close to Zampano (not hard in the tiny bed) he didn’t lose all of the blanket. (Zampano, in turn, found that this left him nicely warm.)

                The reason for Jerso and Zampano’s newfound sleeping arrangement was this: they wanted to get their original bodies back. It wasn’t their first attempt, and it wasn’t their most hopeful attempt, but they knew it would be foolish to leave any attempt on the table, no matter how slight the chance of it working.

                They’d found the slim book in Drachma, in an antique bookstore. It was filed in the alchemy section, and they’d bought it along with everything else on that shelf. It was one of the books that Zampano had been tasked with translating when they had split the pile between them.

                “It’s almost like a folktale,” Zampano had explained. “There’s a frog-human chimera who is revealed to be a prince when he returns to being fully human.”

                “No help to you then,” Jerso had pointed out.

                “Well, yeah, but if it helps you, I imagine I’ll feel like Iron Heinrich.”

                “Who?”

                “He’s another character in the story, friend of the chimera prince. After the prince got turned into a chimera, his heart had to be bound with iron bands to stop it from breaking.”

                “That’s sweet,” Jerso had said sarcastically, and then immediately wished he’d bitten his tongue instead. It was sweet, and Zampano had looked a bit hurt at his response. Jerso had fumbled for something to say. “I suppose we can try it. What do we have to do?”

                And that was how Jerso and Zampano had spent three nights sharing a bed.

                “What purpose does sharing the bed serve?” Jerso had asked, after the second night.

                Zampano shrugged. “It doesn’t say. I mean, we’re probably wasting our time. It’s likely just a bit of folk nonsense with no basis in alchemic truth.”

                “But that’s what alchemists here thought about the Alchemist from the East and alchemists in Xing thought about the Alchemist from the West.”

                “Right,” Zampano agreed. “Sometimes there’s truth in the old stories. I’m willing to put up with your snoring for a few nights if it works.”

                So it was on the morning of the third day that Zampano and Jerso made the final preparations.

                “Once I’ve got the transmutation circle on,” Zampano said for the umpteenth time, I’ll shove you against the wall.

                “That part seems a bit dubious to me,” Jerso said.

                “There was a note scribbled in the margin of the one of the pages,” Zampano said. “This is a synthesized version of the story. So some of the elements might be unnecessary, but I didn’t want to leave any of them out.”

                “So the spit swapping?”

                “Yep. Remember how Al said that his and his brother’s souls became connected when they attempted to use blood for soul data? If blood, why not spit?”

                “Paracelsus did mention it in his Metamorphosis, even if he said it was only a theory,” Jerso admitted.

                “I thought about that, too. Now, we shared a bed for three nights,” Zampano said, “so next I need to shove you against a wall. Technically, I’m supposed to throw you, but I don’t think I can do that.”

                “Ha!”

                “I doubt you could pick me up and throw me against the wall, either,” Zampano protested.

                “I could throw your scrawny ass over Mt. Briggs,” Jerso muttered. “Oh, fine, what else is there?”

                “You need to hand me the gold orb,” Zampano instructed, and Jerso did so. (That step might have proved troublesome, but Emperor Ling had been a generous host who had loaded his guests up with gifts when they had parted ways. Another step – sharing a single plate at dinner time for three nights – had also been easy enough to accomplish.)

                “Where’s that come in?” Jerso asked, pointing to the tiara on the night stand. Etched into it were runes representing Jerso and Zampano’s best alchemic equation to date.

                “That,” Zampano replied, placing it on his head, “is our transmutation circle. How do I look?” He fanned himself with his hand in imitation of Princess Jian.

                “Spitting image of May,” Jerso assured him. “

                “The tiara is symbolic,” Zampano explained, “as well as functioning as our transmutation matrix.”

                “Well, okay then,” Jerso said. “I’m ready if you are.”

                Zampano nodded. Stepping forward, he put his hands on Jerso’s shoulders and pushed him up against the wall. Zampano followed the thrust, putting his body up against Jerso’s body and his lips to Jerso’s lips. Jerso closed his eyes and kissed Zampano back.

                They stayed like that for a moment until it became apparent that nothing had happened. There’d been no transformation, no rebound, no nothing. The attempt was a complete dud.

                “Well that was three days wasted,” said Zampano, pulling back.

                Jerso kicked the wall behind him with his heel in frustration. Then he gave a laugh. “Hey, look on the bright side. You’re a great kisser.”

                Zampano looked like he was going to say something and then stopped, his lips forming words without any sound coming out.

                “Well, you are,” Jerso continued. “My wife never kissed me like that.”

                “Shit,” Zampano said finally. “That was fun wasn’t it?”

                “Yeah,” Jerso said.

                There was a moment of silence that stretched on. Jerso and Zampano had known each other a long time and been through a lot together, but this was new, uncharted territory.

                “What are we going to do?” Zampano asked finally.

                “They don’t make a big deal about it in Xing,” Jerso offered hesitantly.

                Zampano sat on the edge of the bed and then fell on his back, staring at the ceiling. “Get married, have a kid, join the army, get injured, have our humanity taken from us. Our lives didn’t turn out the way they were supposed to, did they?”

                 “Rebuild Liore, save the country, become alchemists, travel the world,” Jerso added. “It hasn’t been all bad. Whatever this is between us, why not give it a shot?”

                Zampano sat up and then smiled. “Yeah, why not? There will be challenges, but they can’t be any more difficult than what we’ve accomplished so far.” He patted the bed next to him, and Jerso sat beside him. Hesitantly, Zampano laid his head on Jerso’s shoulder.

                Both of them looked at the alchemic book that had been left on the pillow. The Frog Prince & Iron Heinrich, the title read when translated. They realized that the text had transformed them, after all.

**Author's Note:**

> Before I sat down to type this story out, I recalled two version of The Frog Prince: one in which the prince is restored with a kiss and one in which the prince is restored by being throw against the wall. Still, I decided to reread the fairy tale before I started writing. To my surprise, the copy of The Frog Prince I owned contained yet another version, where the prince was restored by sharing a dinner plate and a bed with the princess for three nights. I chose to incorporate all of the versions in this story.


End file.
